C-Bo - Death Rider's lyrics
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Artist: C-Bo lyrics Album: Enemy Of The State Year: 2000 Title: Death Rider's |
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Lyrics to Death Rider's :
Now that a nigga's seen money, shit
I can smile and laugh
I got 20's on my bentley
An iron cage in front of my pad
And I still mean muggin
Throw up west-side in my photo shoot
And got TV's, 20's and DVDs in my photo coupe
Got a stash spot in the airbag
For when the po-po's snoop
Steady mobbin on the killa route
With the bads like pride gin n juice
I'm split proof
With the bulletproof and the gin n juice
Still mash with the men in blue
And stay strapped down with a mac-10 or two
Now how you wanna do it?
We can get muddy and bloody
I'ma still count cash, count crass
In the middle of the street whoopin niggas ass
I'm west bound crowned by 50 pounds thats how I do it
On the phone with your wife
While ya gettin beat down that how I do it
I'm a mastermind in crime
I cause disaster with one 9
Be behind 17 bodies all shot in the head one time
So think twice before you gaffle
One pellet to the big apple
All your names in one bag
Were pullin death tickets like a raffle
[Chorus x4]
Bitch, I'm a rider for death
Slide with a tek-9 for respect
And a nigga that step gets stepped with a tek
So it's best you ride with a vest
Homicide be the best bet
For the real life with the best threats
Surprise, with a tek full of teflons
It's westside for death
Yeah yeah war, 9, give it to em
Hit the men in blue and I send it to em
Let off the deaf one full of teflons
Hollowtips spittin straight through em
Niggas scream one never seen one
Send a mini 14 in the street low
With no remorse of course I aim
The tip of torch and I scream go
Haven't you ever heard of a straight killa?
One that makes really quick to break a nigga
Fuck fake niggas and ? nigga
Leave em abandoned and stranded
Hit, by chrome cannon
And he bucked and bucked and kicked
Like a bull from the next planet
They wanna see me talkin bout thug law
You a cinderella quick to scrub floors
Behind your car door in the war
And you've got a 44
Catch me in a four-door range
Wicked language with blowed brains
With Compton's revered
And a east-side ridah no brains
This west coast mafia til death do us part
I don't step on no mark
I let the Smith & Wesson bark
Who you are? Nigga you just a bitch in my book
You snitch, and couldn't shook
Cus you done bit the hook
[Chorus x4]
Ain't no nigga gon' step on my toes
Without gettin bullet holes through his car door
Or a broken nose, they say I'm hostile
But I'm just raised bloccstyle
Don't ever want it nigga, never put my glock down
I'm from the town where house parties be known for crackin
For 10 minutes, then it happen, niggas cappin and scrappin
Then sideways off the block, gang signs out the window
And it's fuck all cops, cus I hit the sherm with the indo
Now, I'm superman and I'm quick to shoot a man
If it's teflon, I send a teflon through his chest bones
I'm out for manslaughter, must I test the water?
I got heat that explodes and implodes like Pearl Harbor
The hood is like a mini-war, them little ???
Now I bang a gang, that I remain to kill lethal
Gets critical and it's pitiful
Cus money is all I'm in it for
In the hood on one knee
Strap in my hand yellin what that info
[Chorus x4]
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